In the moment, on the subway, just past six. I can’t talk about the passengers because the passengers are watching me, which means that I can’t think about them either because there’s no point in thinking about them if I can’t write about them. My only option is to observe them. It’s what I’m supposed to do. That’s The Lord’s plan for me. The thinking comes later, when I’m at a better input station without the eyes of those I’m speaking about peering upon what I’m saying.

This leaves me with more of an opportunity to stare at a cute girl that is standing by the door who hasn’t stopped smiling since she got on. She has headphones in, so I can’t tell if she’s smiling because she’s listening to a comedy album or because she’s in New York, the pinnacle of American society, on a train, surrounded by such hardened diversity that includes myself, a cute enough boy who’s got that writer look. I could be the reason she’s smiling. Here I am, New York Van Gogh in his undiscovered life. You don’t know me yet, I say. But you will. Keep smiling; this is a special moment. Take it in while you have the chance. You’re lucky; there aren’t many who will get this opportunity. You just happen to be in the right place at the right time.

I don’t need to flirt with her. It would be inappropriate. I’m married. This moment is more special than that anyways. I am exhibiting myself. All eyes that I see are seeing the story that you are reading, so let me see your eyes. Even if you don’t know mine, you will feel them. They radiate the golden aura of the X factor. I am a sun, a star. Embrace me.

Originally published at on January 24, 2016.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.